I tried again and missed, a shriek of frustration tearing from my lips because I couldn’t keep the bow steady enough to aim.
I drew another arrow, but the warrior stepped out of my line of sight, hidden by the edge of the roof. “Shit,” I snarled, praying to all the gods that the wood would be too damp to burn even as I heard his mockery from below. “Turn over the shield maiden,” he crooned. “Hand her to me and I promise we’ll let you live.”
A lie if I’d ever heard one, so I didn’t bother responding.
Could I jump down and kill him? I moved to the midpoint of the building to eye the distance, my heart beating manically in my chest and my palms slick with sweat.
It was too far. With my luck, I’d break an ankle and that arsehole would cut off my head while I was writhing in pain. Besides, killing him wouldn’t solve the problem, for as I looked south, it was to see that the rest of Gnut’s forces now stood before the great hall, their shields raised high. “Give us the shield maiden,” one shouted. “Give her to us and we’ll go in peace.”
More lies.
They’d slit my throat and then set the great hall on fire just for spite, killing everyone they could before Snorri and his warriors arrived to drive them back. Given the silence from within the great hall, those inside knew the same. Ylva was likely biding her time, praying her husband would arrive to save her.
And me.
Yet as Gnut’s warriors stepped closer to the great hall, torches in hand, I knew rescue wouldn’t come soon enough. At least, not from where Ylva expected it.
Crawling to the north end of the roof, I stared through the haze of smoke to the fjord where the enemy’s ships rested against the beach. Then I moved my gaze to the building nearest the great hall. A long jump, but not nearly as long as the drop to the ground below.
I could do it. And then it would only be a matter of climbing down to warn Bjorn and the others.
Standing, I hooked the bow around my shoulders and carefully backed up several paces. I was an easy target for any archer, so I didn’t hesitate. My shoes thudded against the wood as I sprinted down the beam, but the sound seemed distant as I stared at the gap between the buildings, my fear demanding that I stop. Begging that I not take this risk.
Born-in-Fire.
I jumped.
Cold wind whistled past my ears as I flew through the air, the roof of the building rushing to meet me. My feet struck first, jarring my spine, then I toppled forward to land on my hands and knees, thatch flying everywhere.
I crouched in place for a heartbeat, gasping for breath.
Then the roof collapsed beneath me.
A shriek tore from my lips as I fell, cutting off as I landed on my back, the wind knocked out of me.
My desperate gasps for breath were deafening, my body aching from the impact and my ears full of the panicked squeal of the pigs whose pen I’d landed in. They raced around me, their hooves clipping my arms and legs, but it wasn’t the pig shit that made my skin crawl. It was the certainty that I was running out of time.
Drawing my sword, I scrambled to my feet even as my eyes latched onto a shadowy figure coming through the open door.
“Have you lost your bloody mind?” Bjorn hissed, stepping into the light filtering through the hole in the roof. “What were you doing on the roof?”
Ignoring both questions, I stepped over a pig, cringing as one of my braids slapped me in the face, the hair covered in shit. I was lucky Bjorn had already given me a moniker because this was prime fodder for his humor. “There’s another force at the south end of the great hall. The attack from the water was a diversion.”
Bjorn swore. “We had guards stationed in the woods watching. That none brought warning means someone told Gnut where they were hidden and they’ve been killed.”
I swallowed hard. “They’re demanding Ylva hand me over or they’ll put fire to the hall.”
“They’ll do that regardless.” Bjorn reached into the pigsty and hauled me out. “You were right to escape. When my father discovers you gone, he’ll believe you dead or that Gnut took you, which he can’t take out on your family. Head south and don’t stop until you’re out of Skaland, and then never come back.”
“What are you talking about?” I demanded. “I didn’t jump to escape, you arse. I jumped because the great hall is full of people who need help. We need to find Snorri and bring him to the hall’s defense.”
“I’ll warn him,” he answered. “You run. Gnut is the first jarl to come for you, but he won’t be the last. Far more dangerous men than him will soon turn their eyes on you.”
A chill ran through me, but I shook my head. “I’m not abandoning my people to save my own skin.”
I tried to pull away, but his grip was implacable as he said, “There is no saving the hall, Freya. My father is caught between two forces and half of his men are drunk. If it comes to it, he’ll take you and abandon Halsar.”
There were children in there, but I suspected that was not enough of a motivator. “Ylva’s in there. They’ll kill her.”
“Ylva crawled out of the great hall. She ran, likely in search of Snorri. It’s only a matter of time until they come looking for you and your chance at freedom will be lost. No matter what Ylva says, he’ll sacrifice everyone in that hall for the sake of keeping warriors alive until they’ve sobered up, because he values their lives more than those hiding inside.”
I believed that. Knew that Snorri’s obsession with becoming king would drive him to sacrifice everything. But that didn’t mean that I’d do the same. “What about you, Bjorn? Whose lives do you value?”
Silence.
I didn’t know if that meant he agreed with his father or not, so I said, “I’m not standing by while innocents die in a fight over me. If you try to stop me, I’ll stab you in the stomach.”
Bjorn snorted. “How do you propose to save them? To run past them, shield blazing bright, and hope the whole lot of Gnut’s army chases after you?”
“Hardly.” I lifted my sword. “I’m going to light his ships on fire and lure him down to the beach.”
It was the best plan I could think of.
A fleet of drakkar would cost a fortune in time and gold to replace. When they saw the fire, Gnut’s men would abandon the fight to save the vessels so they wouldn’t lose their ability to retreat. At least, that’s what I hoped.
“The ships will be under guard. Gnut’s no fool—he’ll protect his line of retreat.”
My hands balled into fists. “Then help me.”
Tension thickened between us, and I could hardly breathe. Not because I thought Bjorn would try to stop me but because I wanted him to help me. Wanted him to be the sort of man who’d do what it took to save all those in the hall. The breath I was holding came out in a gust as Bjorn finally said, “Lead the way, Born-in-Fire.”
We moved through the darkness and flame of Halsar, stepping over bodies and avoiding skirmishes, the smell of smoke thick on the air. More than once I heard, “She can’t have gotten far,” and knew they were talking of me. Bjorn had been right that Snorri’s focus was not on protecting his people but on finding me. I kept glancing backward, expecting to see great gouts of fire rising behind us. Expecting to hear screams as people either burned or fled, only to be cut down by the blades of Gnut’s warriors. Expecting the lancing pain of knowing that I’d failed to help them at all.
“That they haven’t fired the hall may mean they want you alive,” Bjorn said softly. “Perhaps Gnut fancies himself a future king.”
His words did nothing to ease my nerves.